Word: tilled
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...that no longer concerns him. Now, like many sufferers, he has become a "professor of herpes," plunging into the medical literature when he has time, trying to control the disease by understanding it. He refuses to risk infecting others, so he stays celibate. "I didn't get this till I was 39," he says. "I had 15 years of sexual freedom. If I was 20, my attitude might be different...
...writers on the list of the Great are rarely those whom one simply loves. Great writers are often interminable bores. D.H Lawrence once said that reading Proust was like trying to till a field with knitting needles. Cyril Connolly would not have made his own list. He wrote his line about writers we might miss in a minor book called The Unquiet Grave (1944). He died in 1974. But open the book now, in 1982, and his mordant, elegant light pours out of the volume, alive, into the eye, the waiting, conscious mind...
Eschewing the pinstripe ambiguities of the career professional, Habib is renowned for his straightforward talk and capacity to cut through to the basics. "He gets to the core of issues quickly," says one associate, "and then doesn't leave them till they're settled." But his greatest strength, says another, is that "he knows when to use clout and when to listen." For instance, when talking to Menachem Begin, who tends to obscure issues with lengthy digressions, Habib will tenaciously steer the conversation back to the central topic. "He doesn't take opening positions too seriously...
...otherwise normal (I think!) young married woman except I can't seem to get enough chocolate. I blow the housekeeping money on Godiva chocolate strawberry creams. I count the minutes till the weekly shipment of Teuscher champagne truffles arrives from Switzerland. I hide Tobler Extra-Bitter sweet around the house. Hershey's Kisses mean more to me than Harry's (he's my hubby). Sometimes I even dream Harry has been dipped in milk chocolate. When I can't get chocolate, I sweat and shake. Am I an ADDICT? Is there anything...
...festival did not flourish at the box office, it was not the artistic flop that some local critics claimed it was either. Robert Ward's opera Minutes Till Midnight, which took as its theme the moral dilemma of an atomic physicist, is less than exciting, but it has a serviceable tonal score and a singable libretto. Albee's The Man Who Had Three Arms, though wordy, is an intriguing, often hilarious parable about the hazards of fame in the TV age, with excellent performances by Robert Drivas, Patricia Kilgarriff and Wyman Pendleton. Williams' A House Not Meant...